


nightmares

by beccabuchanans (vestigialwords)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Trigedasleng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestigialwords/pseuds/beccabuchanans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia wakes up with a scream behind her lips and a weight pressing heavy on her chest, like the darkness squeezing the voice from her lungs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on my tumblr](http://jakejensen.co.vu/post/114892664184/octavia-wakes-up-with-a-scream-behind-her-lips-and).
> 
> Hover over the text for translations.

Octavia wakes up with a scream behind her lips and a weight pressing heavy on her chest, like the darkness squeezing the voice from her lungs. She swallows and opens her eyes, but the thick black velvet of night coats her vision. The cool metal of the Ark groans and settles in the distance. The _clank clank clank_ of a loose cable echoes against the hull. The thin layer of metal, once the only barrier between them and the emptiness of space, now rings loud and hollow through the camp. It drums out a rhythmic beat like boot steps on a cold metal floor, and she bites her lower lip to hold back a whimper.

_Quiet!_

They’ll float you.

They’ll float Mama.

They’ll float—

— _No! Not Bellamy_. She flings her arm out to the edge of her bedroll, fumbling at the ground where she stashes her weapons overnight. Next to her, Lincoln stirs. 

“ _Yu ste klir nau, Teiv’ya_ ,” he slurs, voice thick with the haze of sleep. “ _Yu nou gaf stas nodotaim nowe_.”

Her searching fingers find the hilt of her sword and curl around it. She feels ready to spring, visualizes the different ways to attack first, deal the most damage while taking the least. Her weapon becomes a part of her, a mere extension of her will. 

“ _En Belami tu_.”

The veil bleeds away from her eyes and she can just barely make out Lincoln’s face in the light of a nearby campfire. It’s soft and kind and the gentle flicker of the flames strips years away from his face. The crisp autumn air rushes into her lungs and it’s nothing like the stale recycled oxygen of the Ark. Octavia releases her sword and turns to wrap her arms around his chest. She nuzzles into his warmth and lets him pull her in tight.

“Sometimes I forget.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't lie, this ficlet was mostly just an excuse to play with Trigedasleng. I was able to find the adjective _stelt_ (hidden), but no extant verb _to hide_ , so I took the liberty of creating one (stas, from stash, as in “to stash [something away]”). If season three gives us a proper verb for this, I’ll fix it up. 
> 
> Since we don’t yet have a translation for “too” or “also” that I can find, I will assume that it does the same thing as common words like “and” until proven otherwise.


End file.
